Going Harley
by QueenOfArkham
Summary: Campbell was furious. She was distraught. And she was DONE. Done trying to be good, trying to be perfect at it. She glanced up at her poster of the black and red super-villain, grinning cockily from behind a giant hammer. Time to go a little insane. [Alternate Harley Quinn origin story. Rated T for innuendo, suggestive themes, and violence.]
1. Chapter 1

Campbell was furious. She was distraught. And she was _done_. Done trying to be good, trying to be perfect at it.

Campbell looked up at a poster on the wall. It had started the mess, and it would get her out of it.

It was red and black, emblazoned with the fictional character Harley Quinn. She had struck a sassy pose, a massive hammer in one hand, cheeky grin staring Campbell in the face.

A villain. Insane, sexualized, _bad_.

"Not a good role model," her parents had said, time and time again. "Waste of time. Bad obsession."

Harley Quinn had become an inspiration to Campbell over the months. Harley Quinn was free. She didn't give a crap, except about her Puddin'. She was obsessive and insane. But something changed in that moment.

Campbell didn't see a poster of her role model; she saw a mirror.

It had all started with her boyfriend.

Jackson was always introducing her to new, nerdy things. She loved it, and it made her cool in his crowd. Star Trek, Sword Art Online, Supernatural. Just before moving away, he gave her the poster.

"Here's a new one for ya," he'd said with one of his rare grins. He pecked her on the cheek and was gone, a state away, just outside of Las Vegas, Nevada.

They texted constantly. Then as Jackson drifted off, replies growing far and few between, Campbell became more obsessed than ever with both her Jackson and the idol she felt so close to. Campbell thought she knew why he'd abandoned her. She just couldn't voice it.

"Visit me in Vegas," he had said.

Well she would.

Like all spur-of-the-moment capers, this would require some for-thought and action. Minus the thinking part. She reached for her driver's liscence, then said an alternative for "screw it" that would've gotten her grounded for a month. Campbell got into her parents car. A quick stop at CVS and the local Goodwill later and she looked nothing like before.

Pale skin. Dark lips. Twin ponytails. And a black and red outfit so skimpy that Campbell would have blushed to her skull.

But Campbell wasn't Campbell anymore.

The drive was long enough that it was nearly nine o'clock by the time she got to Jackson's house. She'd never seen it in real life before, and this certainly wasn't how she'd planned on doing it.

 _He's in there_ , she thought, eyes settling on a brightly lit, second-floor window.

With gritted teeth, she began to climb up the side of the house via a water spout, window sills, and sheer willpower. With a final grunt, she pulled herself up to the window.

She could nearly feel the fire in her eyes when she saw exactly what shed known she'd see.

Jackson had a girl pinned to his wall. Their lips were passionately interlocked. She was redheaded and busty. A gaming t-shirt. A tattoo of a vine on her ankle. Gorgeous, judging by what Jackson wasn't covering up with those wandering hands.

With the warm desert night, the window was cracked. She took advantage, sliding her fingers under it before thrusting it sky-high. The startled pair broke apart as the black-and-white girl climbed through the window, beaming triumphantly.

Red-head's eyes widened. Jackson squinted, then stammered.

"C-Campbell?"

"Wrong name, Puddin'!" The voice came out high-pitched, laced with a Brooklyn accent. The make-up, the voice... they hid the coward that would have stood stammering in her place. She was bold. She was exposed.

"Harley Quinn," Red murmured.

"Ya got that straight, Red," Harley Quinn beamed. "Speakin' a Red... what the hell, Mistah J?" The name rolled out of nowhere. It just fit.

Harley pulled a baseball bat off her back and stepped towards Jackson. To her shock, Jackson stepped back. That wasn't the jackson she new. The Jackson Campbell had known would have taken any attacker and stabbed them six times, ripped out their windpipe, and dropped them out the window. He wouldn't have _cowered_.

But the Jackson Harley knew was very, very different.

"Sorry to break it to ya, Red," Harley said, advancing on Jackson again. "But you ain't his type. I prefers what you'd call a petite frame." _Smack!_ She hit the bat against her hand. "Or so he told me."

"Cam-" Jackson started.

" _That ain't my name!_ " Harley screamed. Her voice went back to overly chirpy and cheerful. But it wasn't faked; she honestly felt elated. High on adrenaline from doing something Campbell would never have done. "So whadya do to woo this one, Mistah J? D'ya tell her she made ya whole? Kept back your depression? Made life worth livin' again?"

Fear flashed across his paled face. He'd told Red those things _exactly_.

Campbell too.

"So why was wooin' me not enough?" Harley asked. The cheer began to fade till a scream took it's place again. "Was she less blond and ditzy? Less clumsy? Less a fake geek, maybe? Do _her_ parents let her watch Deadpool? Did she promise you her first kiss too?! _To show off that impressive rack at ComiCon in whatever skimpy costume you choose next?!_ "

Jackson was no longer watching the insane Harley. His eyes were glued to something behind her.

Harley whirled around. Red had one of Jackson's many knives, one pried off the walls.

"Is she braver than me?" Harley asked in a whisper. "Cause Campbell wouldn't have thought to do what Red's doin'. She wouldn't be brave enough. But I ain't Campbell! And I put on this, stole my parents car, and drove without a silence to see you. And Puddin', _you ain't worth it!_ "

Red lunged with the knife.

Campbell would have frozen, then screamed, then bled.

But Harley was a different story.

Harley sidestepped, then brought her bat up sharply against Red's arm. She slid the bat down, driving it into Red's defensless torso, pulling the busty redhead up against Harley's chest. Harley wrenched the knife out of Red's hand and pressed it to her throat.

Jackson swore softly.

"So here's the dealio, Puddin'," Harley said brightly. "You let me take Red here, an' I won't set off the explosives planted in the first floor of your house. Your parents'll escape the blast, thank heavens, but your darlin' sisters won't fare too well."

Jackson paled to the shade of Harley's makeup.

"Do it," Red gasped. "Your family. I'll go with C- Harley Quinn." Harley kept up her psychotic grin, but inside she raged. Why was the girl so... perfect?

Jackson was frozen, like he never thought he could get in this situation.

"Your sisters or your new sex toy, Puddin'," Harley beamed.

He gave the tiniest of half-nods.

Harley grinned.

Harley Quinn stood in the dark street, facing the redheaded girl.

"What do you want to do to me?" Red asked.

Harley turned around. "Nothin'. I mostly just wanted to scare the crap outa Jackson."

"But... you must hate me."

"I'm tryin', believe me," Harley said, waving a hand. "But you're everything I wanted to be. Gorgeous. Nerdy. Obviously smart and brave," Harley added, thinking of Red's quick work with the knife. "And you have my Puddin'. Hard to hate an idol."

Red frowned. "There were no explosives, were there."

"Nah."

"Bluffer."

"I was in a rush," Harley said defensively, getting into her car.

"Where are you going?" Red stepped closer. "I mean... is this just a regular nightly thing for you?"

Harley Quinn snorted. "I ain't gonna see my parents ever again. Not unless I wanna end up dead. I figure I'll turn to a life of crime and chaos." _And freedom_ , she thought, thinking of the rigidity of her previous, sterile life.

Red's face was a storm of emotions before one won out; defiance.

"I'm coming."

Harley paused. "I'm probably gonna end up in Juvie. Troubled mind, wasted life. Lotta potential not goin' to good use," she said.

"If I don't come, I'll end up a shell of a person with a useless education in a job I hate, wondering what happened to special snowflake teen me," Red retorted. " _That_ is a waste."

Harley blinked. Then her dark lips, coated in lipstick for the first time, spread into a grin.

"I couldn't 'a said it better," she said. "Get in shotgun, Red."

Red ran around the car and threw open the door. "My name i-"

" _No!_ " Harley smacked the dashboard. "I don't wanna know your name, or about your family. You're Red."

Red hesitated, then grinned.

"Poison Ivy." She pointed to the tattoos on her ankle. "It fits, I guess."

"Darn straight," Harley hooted.

They were _done_. Done trying to make the Template of a Normal Life work. Both of them were.

Time to go a little insane.


	2. Chapter 2

The weight of what they were doing settled on Campbell. But not on Harley Quinn.

They spend out of the quiet suburb and towards the lively Strip, with it's flashing lights drowning out the solitude of the night.

"So what's your first plan?" Ivy asked.

"Dunno, Red," Harley replied. "I think we're a little lackin' in resources to do a stick 'em up just yet." She got out of the car.

Any other place in the world, a sixteen year old girl dressed up as a sexy clown might draw too much attention. But in Vegas, Harley Quinn was just another attraction. She waved to a man in a Pikachu costume dancing on a street corner and walked into a chain fast-food restaurant.

"What resources do we need?" Ivy asked, sliding into a booth.

"First off, you need to get a little gussied up," Harley said. "I love the shirt, believe me, and it shows off your figure just perfect. But it ain't exactly awe-inspirin'."

"I suppose it's about time to get back to nature," Ivy mused.

"That, and we need it to get our other resource: manpower," Harley said.

"Harley," Ivy protested. "I don't think a revealing suit can seduce men into helping teen criminals."

"That's Plan D, Red." Harley shook her head, ponytails whipping back and forth.

Ivy frowned. "What's Plan A?"

"Be a normal person. THAT obviously didn't work out so good. I'm on Plan C!" Harley leaned in conspiratorially. "Plan B was be weird but in secret." She straightened up.

Ivy sighed. "Plan C, then."

"You'll _C_ ," Harley said with a wink.

Ivy stood up, leaning over Harley and knocking over a salt-shaker in the process.

"Look, 'Harley'. I'm throwing everything away here. If it's not serious with you, count me out. Let me know now."

"Why so serious, Red?" Harley pushed her down. "I burned my bridges too, so Hakuna your Ta-Ta's."

Ivy watched Harley's face for a minute, then sat back down.

"Fine. But I need a Walmart stop first."

"No problemo, muchacho," Harley said, sliding out of the booth again. "Then we'll glam ya up, then drive till the wee hours of the mornin'!"

"To?"

"Cali for Nia!" Harley stood and snatched the next order awaiting it's buyer off the counter, then waltzed to the car. "Hm. I prefer a bacon cheese burger myself, but this'll do."

She got into the car, Ivy following, then drove to the nearest Walmart she could find. She pulled into the nearly empty lot.

"Have fun!" Harley said with a wave.

Ivy went inside, leaving Harley in the parking lot. As Harley sat there, she made up scenarios in her mind. Which car exploding would cause the most damage? Which was owned by the richest person she could hold hostage? Would her Mistah J approve? He was violence prone.

Despite herself, a sigh came out.

"He was almost as crazy as I've become," she said to the empty car.

Ivy came back with half a dozen bags of various cleaning sprays and bug killers, along with several nerf guns.

"I like the vibe of the nerf products, Red," Harley commented as Red threw the bags into the backseat of the car. "But they ain't gonna do us much good."

"They will when I'm through," Red said, crawling into the back.

"An' ain't there less passive aggressive ways to tell me to clean my car?" Harley asked, putting the car in drive.

"The sheer amount of chemicals and toxins in household cleaners are astounding. And the poison in the bug killer is a plus. Roll down the windows, Harl."

Harley obliged, pulling onto the highway headed to LA. "You're cookin' up some goodies, then?"

"That's one way of putting it."

"Yippie!"

And with that, Harley Quinn put the pedal to the metal.

Harley was flyin', Ivy was cookin'.

"Bleh. The smell alone could kill," Harley joked.

"Isn't it marvelous?" Ivy's murmur could barely be heard over the sound of tires thundering over the road.

Out of nowhere came police sirens.

"Who the hell has police watchin' for speeders at this ungodly hour of the mornin'?" Harley snarled. She began to pull over.

"But they're not ready!" Ivy protested, holding up a small bucket of something noxious.

"I"ll take care of it, Red," Harley promised.

A police man came up to their car.

"I'm gonna need to see a driver's licence, Miss," he said.

"Gee," Harley sighed. "Leave it to me to leave it behind on my way to ComiCon."

The officer peered into the backseat, eyes widened as they settled on Ivy's little laboratory.

"...not drugs?" Harley asked unconvincingly.

"Okay, outa the car, kids," The officer sighed.

Hiding a grin, Harley stepped out into the road, heels of her boots clicking on the asphalt. Ivy followed suit. he officer looked from the pale, skimpy clown girl to the green, skimpy leaf girl, then shook his head.

"Sure, no drugs," he muttered with a snort. Then he turned to grab something out of his car.

Deftly, Harley took out her bat and cracked the man in the head. He slumped against the car.

"Geeze, that wasn't very professional. Turnin' your back on a druggie!" Harley chided, stepping over the policeman's body. She walked around the side of the car, then leaned in his window and put it into neutral.

"What are you gonna do with him?" Ivy asked, leaning against their car.

"Ba-boom!" Harley said emphatically. "Drop the corpse in the ditch on the side of the road, will ya?"

"Did you kill him?" Ivy's eyes went wide.

"Not yet!" Harley said cheerfully.

Campbell screamed in her head. Harley wrestled her into a tiny box. Campbell shut up.

Harley began pushing the car off the side of the road, grunting and heaving all the way. She heard the thud when Ivy successfully dropped the police into the ditch before coming to help Harley with the car.

Suddenly, the car began to roll away from her and tipped down into the ditch. There were a couple sickening crunch-y and squish-y noises, then the sound of the car settling.

Harley fished out a match and lit it, then tossed it into the ditch.

"Sorry, Cali. Here's another wildfire for ya!" Then she and Ivy vaulted towards the car.

Harley sped down the road. Then there was a flash of orange in the mirror and a deafening explosion in their ears.

Harley cheered.

Campbell was frozen.

Harley had succeeded.

Campbell had become a murderer.

The little rational part of Harley's mind curled up in it's box, silent and shocked, completely given into the madwoman in charge.

She was free. Harley Quinn was free in her own little anarchy.


	3. Chapter 3

Ivy kissed the credit card she'd stolen from her parents before going to Jackson's.

"Thank you, Daddy," she said with a smirk, sliding the card down her sizable chest.

"Ain't they gonna cancel it after a while?"

"Probably," Ivy conceded. "I'll find an ATM." She tossed the hotel key card at Harley. "215."

"Thanks, Red!" Harley chirped. She skipped down the hotel hall, located the door, then let herself in.

Harley flopped onto the bed, feeling tired. She'd been going for twenty four hours, most of that adrenaline-rushed, insane, and illegal.

After a few seconds of just lying there, the early L.A. sun filtering through the flimsy curtains, Harley got up and stripped off the skimpy costume. In just her underwear, she did a few stretches and body-weight exercises. It wouldn't do to be on the run from the coppers and not be able to do a single push-up.

Sweaty and exhausted, Harley went into the bathroom and wiped off all her makeup. Then she blinked in the mirror. Campbell was looking back at her. A hiss rising in her throat, she went back into the other room and got her bat.

 _ **CRACK!**_

 _Tinkle tinkle tinkle._

 _Well crap_ , Harley thought. _Now there's just a million little Campbell's. I'm gonna have to find somethin' a little more permanent to keep Harley Quinn in charge._

There was a knock at the door. Harley whirled, bat over one shoulder, and peered through the peep-hole. A mass of red curls were outside.

Harley opened the door. "Red! Long time no see, honey!"

Ivy raised her eyebrow, looking the underwear-clad, makeup-less, armed Harley over. Harley stepped back. "Watch out for glass," she warned.

"Duly noted." Ivy walked in, closing the door behind her.

Harley tossed the bat on the bed. "Hey, wheredya get that done?" She gestured at Ivy's ankle. A leafy vine was tattooed there, twisting up around the calf.

Ivy set down a green purse of hundred dollar bills. "Place back in Vegas that didn't mind bending the law a little to work with minors."

"We gotta find one here in Los Angeles," Harley commented.

"Alright, give it to me straight now," Ivy said, flopping onto one side of the bed. She kicked off her shoes and fluffed her hair back. "What's the plan here?"

"Not here," Harley promised. "We're a city over."

"You weren't kiddin' about ComiCon, then?" Ivy asked, perking up.

"Why not?" Harley said with a shrug and a cheery grin. "We're just right for the part!" She gave a seal-clap.

"Security?" Ivy asked.

"That's gonna be your job," Harley said dismissively. "We'll fake our way inside the biggest gathering of adoring nerds ever, then you make sure no one interrupts."

"How likely is this to work?" Ivy asked seriously.

"Don't worry. I've got a checklist!" Harley lifted her arm with smears of ballpoint pen. "Oops. Guess that came off with the makeup."

"Speaking of makeup coming off," Ivy said. "No wonder Jackson was into you."

"Mistah J was into me till he wasn't," Harley said offhandedly. "My Puddin' likes to change his mind."

Ivy tilted her head. "You still love him?"

"Course I do. Don't you?" Harley frowned at Ivy.

Ivy shook her head. "Heck no. I liked him until I found out he was a two-faced, chea-"

 _SMACK_.

A pillow hit Ivy in the face.

"Don't talk bad about my Mistah J!" Harley screeched.

Ivy tossed the pillow back at Harley. "Okay, okay. Calm down."

Harley huffed, rolling over away from Ivy. "S'not his fault," she mumbled into her pillow. "I just gotta prove I'm brave enough. Crazy enough."

"Believe me," Ivy mumbled. "If you're not crazy enough, Jackson can screw it."

The next night, Harley had the checklist rewritten and fully checked out on the new hotel room wall. She scribbled a giant check mark near the final command.

✔ ACQUIRE GUN

"This better work," Ivy commented. "Otherwise it won't be worth ticking off the hotel."

"Ooh!" Harley squealed. "I love that pun, Ivy." She tapped the check mark. "Tick off? Geddit?"

Ivy glared. "If you have to explain the joke, it's not worth it."

"Hey, I'm the jokester around here, Miss Red!" Harley snapped. "Leave it to me to decide whether or not it's worth it."

Ivy held up her hands. "Fair enough. Are we ready?"

"Are we ever," Harley grinned. She stood up and raised her bat, then drove it through the window. Glass sprayed out into the alley behind the hotel.

"Was that necessary..." Ivy grumbled.

"You darn bet it was." Harley let herself out the window, then dropped neatly into the alley below.

The two walked through San Diego. Ivy glowered at everyone that stared, and Harley sashayed her way through the streets. They came across several cosplaying people, many of whom graced the pair with wolf whistles. Ivy bristled each time. Harley had the tendency to give them a hug.

"It's nearly over anyways, Harley," Ivy pointed out.

"Oh ye of little faith," Harley giggled. "We're gonna scope it out, Red. Get our tickets. And try out that toxin of yours."

"Hey, nice voice, Quinn!" Called out an Assassin's Creed cosplayer, just outside the main building.

Harley bounded over, grabbed the edges of his hood, then planted her lips on his. "Well thank ya, Puddin'!" she chirped.

Ivy rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Harley. We don't have long."

Harley trailed after Ivy, waggling her fingers at the blinking assassin.

"What, I gotta thing for 'ssassins," Harley said defensively.

"Jackson?"

"Yeah," Harley grinned nostalgically. "Mistah J sure liked that game."

Ivy just shook her head.

"Oooh! Over there!" Harley squealed in a whisper. She pointed at two volunteers, both with badges proudly displayed on lanyards. "Time to put the plan into action!"

Ivy melted into the shadows, and Harley walked up.

"Hi, boys!" she said in her highest, most Brooklyn voice yet. "I gotta question for ya!"

One of them, a woman with a dozen pierces in one ear alone, looked at Harley with a bored expression before looking back down at her phone. The other perked up when he spotted the scantily-clad clown.

"Nice costume," he said with a grin.

"Thanks, Mistah!" Harley batted her eyelashes. "You look pretty swell too."

"What's your question?" asked the bored woman.

"Right. I need ta know where the bathrooms are, actually. Any chance you could point it out?"

"Sure!" the man said eagerly. He stepped out from under the lamppost where he was stationed to walk a few steps closer to exactly where Harley knew the nearest bathrooms were. Once he was in the dark, he slumped to the ground.

A tiny orange nerf dart was stuck to his arm.

"What? Hunh? I can't see it. Where? Can you point better?" Harley began saying in her loudest, most obnoxious voice yet.

"Oh my _gawd,_ " the woman said in exasperation. She walked over to join them. "They're over THERE, Mi-" The woman fell down on top of the man.

"Oopsie," Harley said innocently.

Ivy walked over. "Nicely done."

"We ain't done yet!" Harley yanked off the lanyards. "So it looks like you're gonna be Marla Westby, and I'm gonna be... Thomas West."

"Yeah. You sure look like a Thomas in that costume," Ivy snorted.

Harley smacked her arm. "Hey, don't discriminate against us transgendered folk. Not my fault I can't get them to change my name yet."

Ivy shook her head, Harley's grin mirrored on her own full lips. "I guess that might work. Let's get these bodies out of the way."

"Are they dead?" Harley nudged Marla's tattoo-covered arm.

"Very," Ivy answered.

"Well, it's for a good cause," Harley said, bending over to pat the late Thomas's shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey there, Pumpkin!" called another Joker cosplayer. Harley flashed him a smile and waggled her fingers.

Ivy scowled. "It's like the relationship... but in reverse. If another Joker tries to latch onto you, I'm going to shove this dart up his-"

"Oh, hush! They're just here for some fun, Red!" Harley giggled. "Besides, soon they'll get to spend aaall the time they want with me."

The two of them were walking through the convention, on their way to a massive theater where some new trailers were being released in half an hour.

A smile flickered across Ivy's deep green lips. "I like the plan."

"Overview. I put on the dazzle show, you say nighty-night to the guards. I go boom, you pull up with the truck before the copper's arrive."

"Why would the police come? Cell phones aren't allowed in there," Ivy said, jerking her thumb at the NO PHONES sign plastered on the door.

"Please. It's a convention of geeks! _Someone's_ gonna sneak their phone in," Harley explained.

The green-painted girl leaned against the wall, leafy leotard rustling as she crossed her arms. "Fair point. Have fun."

Harley laughed. "Oh, I'm gonna have fun." She threw open the doors to the theater.

The doors swung shut behind her as she strode up the middle aisle, hips swinging. A man stood was kneeling over a bundle of chords, working on some last minute technicalities.

Harley Quinn pulled out her gun. Campbell whimpered. Harley aimed the gun. There was something so _intoxicating_ about holding that power, knowing that death lay inside the slender tunnel, just waiting to come spiraling out.

She cocked the gun. The man froze. Her finger squeezed the trigger.

 _ **CRACK!**_

Blood splattered out of his forehead and oozed over his neck and hair. He slumped to the ground.

Harley continued forward, never missing a beat until she squatted down by his head.

"Nighty night," she said in a sing-songy voice, closing his eyelids. Then she kissed the muzzle of her gun.

Harley kicked in one of the boards on the side of the stage and began shoving the man in. Then she crawled in after.

She got to work fastening Ivy's homemade bomb to the underside of the middle of the stage. A dramatic entrance was half the plan! And she had the pie charts to prove it. _Pie charts could prove anything_ , she thought.

Harley rolled her way to the far side of the stage and lay there, curled up, watching the lights flicker on the blood spatters the corpse had left smeared on the floors.

 _If he weren't dead, I'd kill him for messin' up my floor,_ Harley Quinn huffed internally.

After half an hour, people started trickling in. They settled in the blood-red seats, chattering excitedly about the previews about to be shown.

 _But they're gonna see see a preview for somethin' a little different_ , Harley thought.

Soon, there was a bustling audience, eagerly awaiting their trailers. Harley heard the click of high heels across the stage overhead, soon drowned out by the roar of a crowd greeting someone in charge.

"Gooood morning!" said a female voice through speakers. Her heels stopped clicking just ahead of Harley's bomb. "I'm Martha, the-"

Harley pushed her big red button.

 _ **BOOM!**_

Splintered wood went flying through the air. The woman screamed. The crowd cheered, most probably thinking it a special effect stunt.

Without a second to waste, Harley rolled over to the explosion spot, then popped out of the floor of the stage. With the Woman In Charge still in shock from the blast, Harley slipped her arm around her waist, taking the woman's microphone.

"What did you say your name was, honey? Martha?" The name rolled r-less off of Harley's tongue, Brooklyn accent strong as ever. "Hi, Martha. Hi, ComiCon crowd!" Harley waved with her gun.

The crowd looked more uncertain now. This looked a little more... insane.

"This," Harley said, holding up the gun. "Is an STI Edge 2011. It's pretty easy even for a beginner to fire accurately. But the gun isn't as much of a problem for you as the bullets coming out. I've got a 9mm. It goes a long way in the skin. Long enough that if, for some reason, I decide to leave, you're gonna have a hard time gettin' these out! But none of that isn't very important. Ya know what is? The fact that I'll _blow your brains out_ if you don't do exactly what I say!"

The crowd was deathly silent.

"You'll never be able to shoot everyone here," hissed Martha. "There's too many people here." It was a whisper, but Harley's microphone sent it screaming out of the speakers. Suddenly, a murmur grew in the crowd.

Harley Quinn nodded thoughtfully. "Good point. But I wish ya hadn't-a brought it up. Cause now I gotta mention the bombs too." Harley curled her finger around the trigger. Martha sensed it and stiffened in Harley's arms.

"Aw, don't worry! I don't want ya dead yet. And neither do these guys! Look at 'em... they idolize superheroes. And if they want to be real heroes, they'll save you," Harley said happily. "And here's how."

Harley let go of the woman, who scrambled off the stage. She must've gotten too close to the hole Harley had kicked into the side of it earlier, because she let out a small shriek and then mumbled something along the lines of "bloody body".

"Everyone here who's out of shape, keep your big rears down. I'm not bein' discriminatin' or nothin', I just need people who can outrun the coppers for me. Anyone on the pudgy side who isn't in their seats can enjoy havin' their ears torn off," Harley said. "Now, everyone who is in shape, or is insane enough to actually wanna come, stand up! C'mon, don't be shy! I'll only shoot ya if ya don't!"

Tentatively, a few men and women stood up in the crowd.

"I'm gonna need a few more than that," Harley said in a sing-songy voice. She pulled a detonator out of her suit. "That's more like it! Enthusiasm, people, enthusiasm!"

As one or two more geeks nervously stood up, Ivy came crashing through the auditorium doors. Or more accurately, the refrigerated truck with pop-cycles designed on the side did.

"Yay! Red's on time!" Harley cheered. "Alright, cupcakes! Everyone standin' goes in the van." She made shooing motions. The people to her right all flinched as the gun waved wildly.

Harley dropped the mic, which let out screaming noises as it hit the stage and rolled onto the floor.

Silence followed.

"I can't believe it actually worked," Harley said happily as they barreled out of California.

"I can't either," Red grumbled.

"Hey, I can doubt my plan, but that's a right reserved for me, myself, and I." Harley patted her chest proudly as she said it.


	5. Chapter 5

"Do ya think we should feed 'em or somethin'?" Harley asked, her heeled boots propped up on the dashboard. Beside her, Ivy was putting the pedal to the metal.

"Humans can survive up to three weeks without food," Ivy replied. "Eight days is the absolute maximum without water, but every three days is a safer max."

"See? I knew you were smart 'n stuff," Harley said. "You prob'ly got straight A's."

"Yeah, well let's not keep harping on the past," Ivy grumbled.

Harley dropped her feet, getting on all fours with her face right next to Ivy's.

"D'you get tired of all those 'spectations put on ya, Red?"

Ivy kept her eyes straight ahead on the road.

"Yes."

She nodded with satisfaction, sitting back down in the seat. "I'll give 'em water when we stop for gas next."

Harley Quinn walked across the top of the cargo end of the truck, her heels thunking through the thin sheets of metal. "Everyone against the walls!" she yelled cheerfully. There were shuffling and scraping sounds as everyone scrambled away from the middle of the truck.

Harley sent four bullets blowing through the roof, then kicked in the square shape they left. The metal clattered to the floor of the truck.

"Why so serious?" She chided, squatting to chuck down bottles of Bug Juice.

"What do you want with us?" One man whimpered.

"How do we know this isn't poisoned?" A woman demanded, holding up the toxic blue bottle.

Harley giggled. "If you're dead, you can't do my dirty work for me! You're not very good at lookin' at this from my perspective."

The group of geeks nervously passed the bottles around, taking sips of the juice. Harley stood up and walked away.

"Wait!" the woman called again. "What he said. What do you want with us?"

"Manpower," she said flippantly.

"We're your thugs," said a new voice.

"You heard of 'em!" Harley squealed.

"Goons," muttered the woman. "Not my plan for this Con."

"Shut up," hissed another person. "She's crazy. She'll shoot us."

Harley clapped like a seal. "They know I'm crazy!" She climbed down the side of the truck and got into the driver's seat.

"So where are we going?" Poison Ivy asked, picking at the leaves on her leotard.

"Canada," Harley replied. She slapped the wheel, started the truck, and took off again.

"Canada?" Poison Ivy blinked.

"Canada," Harley confirmed. "We took a tour of an old abandoned asylum up there once with some relatives. I was thinkin' of callin' it Boat-Bacon."

Ivy grinned at the pun. "I think that's a fabulous idea."

* * *

 **Sorry this one's so short and free of action! The next one should be more like the rest of the story. Please leave a review, darls!**

 **Love, QoA**


	6. Chapter 6

Harley Quinn walked in front of the clustered group of abducted geeks.

"So!" she chirped. "I can't drive the truck across the river thing here. So we're all gonna walk! Cause I'm not drivin' through any of the roads what with a lack of a passport or driver's liscence, an' we're not stayin' in the Home of the Brave an' the Land of the Free."

"What makes you think we're going to do anything you say?" asked the fit woman at the front.

"Cause Red's gotta toxin gun on ya," Harley said.

Poison Ivy shifted slightly to the side, nerf guns trained on the group.

"Those things?" the woman scoffed.

"I don't wanna try one on ya," Harley said. "It would be a waste of a dart. And a thug."

A teen boy nudged the angry woman.

"Let's just go with them," he whispered.

"He has the right idea!" Harley beamed at them. "C'mon!"

She skipped through the trees in the brisk air, then through the freezing river.

"Brrr," Harley said with an exaggerated shiver. "Yeah, I can see why you don't wanna come. Pretty chilly!"

The group began to move sluggishly after her. They looked nervous, like they were expecting a trick. Harley Quinn grinned; they were afraid of her.

No one had feared her before. It was empowering. Intoxicating.

They crossed the river and walked a little further before coming across an abandoned, concrete prison.

"Tour time!" Harley yelled. "This used to be a prison. Now it's a fortress for us! Tour over. Everyone go to the courtyard thing."

Then the real work began.

"Do two more than you think you can," was Harley's new motto. She screamed it at the thugs when they were working out every morning in the courtyard. She hissed it to herself when she was off pilfering from the nearest convenience store. She yelled it at Ivy when picking off the police that attempted to arrest them shortly thereafter.

Life seemed to have settled into a routine. Break the thug's spirit so Harley Quinn was their lord and master. Establish trust between her and Poison Ivy. Steal enough to survive, but not enough to attract any trouble.

Yet.

After nearly a month of this pace, Poison Ivy began to get antsy.

"I thought we were leaving to make something of ourselves," she said, glaring at Harley from the doorway. Everyone was sleeping in old prison cells except Harley and Ivy; they had offices.

"And we're gonna," Harley replied.

"What? With convenience store hit-n-runs?"

"Hey, we gotta keep fed. Don't worry! I gotta plan."

"And what plan is that?" Poison Ivy crossed her arms.

"First, we go-"

"QUINN!"

There was utter silence following the bellow. Harley raised her eyebrows at Poison Ivy, then strutted out the door.

"Yoo-hoo!" she waved her hand. "Up here!"

Harley walked to the edge of the balcony overlooking the courtyard. She could just see over the wall enclosing it. Through the razor-wire, she spotted a dark grey figure.

"First, we go kill the Batman," Harley said in a low voice that only Poison Ivy could hear.

"What?" Ivy hissed, coming up behind Harley. "Oh... I didn't think... other kids?"

"Of course," Harley said, eyes lighting up. "It's working. It's working!" She forgot to whisper, her last phrase ringing out over the compound.

"Let me in!" said the boy in the Batman costume.

"Batsy, Batsy, Batsy," Harley Quinn said in a chiding voice. She walked down the staircase to the courtyard, then across to the doors, her boots clicking loudly on the concrete.

"Quinn," he muttered darkly.

"Oh, cheer up!" Harley said with a grin. "You don't have a reason to hate me yet. Unless that cop was your dad. Or I kidnapped your sister. Or your mom runs the convenience store. Hey, why are ya here anyways?"

"Because you need to be stopped," Batman growled.

"Hey," Harley whined. "That's not nice. I've barely even started!"

"You kidnapped nearly fifty people!"

"I needed thugs," she said defensively.

"Let them go and I'll leave you be. For now."

Harley Quinn giggled. Then she cackled. She was certain that under his menacingly black mask, Batman was blushing.

"Listen, Batboy," she said casually, straightening up. "You can't even get into this place, much less make me do anything. But feel free to tryy-yyy!" she finished in a singsongy voice.

Harley skipped down the courtyard, pulling out a remote. She pressed the button labeled "Emergency".

Alarm bells began to ring, and the cell doors opened. Harley's thugs all came out.

"ALRIGHT!" Harley yelled. She put one hand on her hip and used the other to conduct her speech. "Here's how it's gonna roll. If anyone here absolutely doesn't wanna stay, go with Batboy. But if you want money, freedom, and plenty of quality time with yours truly, stick around!"

Poison Ivy froze on the balcony. Harley knew what she was thinking: _None of them are going to stay._

The angry woman walked to the gate. The nervous teenaged boy followed her.

They were the only ones.

"I don't know if you recall, Batgeek," Harley said. "But I'm pretty good at figuring out how people think. I can give 'em somethin' you can't... freedom."

"They're living in a prison cell, Quinn!" Batman snapped.

"Hey, I know it ain't a five star hotel, but give me some credit. They're free from rules. Free from sanity. Free from the likes of YOU, who think they can just order people around."

"You ordered us around!" the angry woman said... well, angrily.

"I'm lettin' you go, ain't I?" Harley grinned. She opened the gate. "Toodle-oo! I'll see you again soon, Batnerd!"

With an overly-dramatic swish of his cape, the wannabe crusader lead his two rescuees away from the prison.

Harley Quinn turned to her thugs.

"Now it's time to play," she said with a grin.


	7. Chapter 7

"So there are more like us," Poison Ivy mused, flopping onto Harley Quinn's bed.

"More who decided to take up the mantel of being who they were truly called to be!" Harley Quinn said dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. "Too bad he was tempted by the light side, eh?"

"Maybe we should start an internet support group," Ivy said, rolling her eyes.

"Hey, not a bad idea. Maybe we can find Selina. So! Who's ready for our big job?"

"What is the big job? You like your secrets, Harl."

"Pfft." Harley waved her hand dismissively. "Just making sure we haven't got moles. Here's the plan. We're pretty darn close to Ontario, right?"

"We're in Ontario, Harley. Disconcertingly close to town, too.," Poison Ivy said.

"Details." Harley flapped her hand again. "There's diamond minin' up near McFauld's lake, amiright? Well, there's nearly 20 companies runnin' some minin' operations up there. And we're gonna hit every one of 'em!"

Poison Ivy glared at the floor for a moment before a grin began to spread across her green face. "Clever."

"Not nearly as clever as the full plan," Harley said proudly. She picked up a manilla folder off her desk and dropped it on Ivy's lap. "Here ya are, Red! Read up. But don't take too long, it's a 13 hour drive."

Poison Ivy flipped through the pages of blueprints and photos. "You're... organized? Thorough?"

"My Mistah J had a thing for plans," Harley said with a small sniff.

"And what are we going to do to stop people from coming after us?"

"Oh, that's easy!" Harley said with a laugh. "We make it so this place is too dangerous to come after, and then have other hiding places we _actually_ go to. I'll leave the house hunting to you. I've got some thugs to train!"

Harley turned on her heel and walked out the door.

Still in the room, Poison Ivy turned the file over in her hands.

"I just wonder," the green girl murmured to herself. "Who else will be "inspired" to come after us? To join us?"

There was silence, save for the sound of grunting thugs below.

"To kill us?"

* * *

 **Just a quickie. :) Make sure you're leavin' reviews, Puddin's... it's how we authors know if ya like our stuff.**


	8. Chapter 8

"So the first thing I asked myself was, 'where in Northern Ontario would I go if I were a psychopathic clown girl?'" Batman said, pacing in front of the trussed up girls.

"I'm a part of this too, you know," Poison Ivy snapped.

"Also, you make a terrible Batman," Harley Quinn commented. "Too perky. Not dark and serious. I'd give you a C- at most. Also, who the heck would drive 13 hours to maybe catch a bad guy? You're nuttier than I am!"

Batman ground his teeth.

"But don't worry," Harley said quickly. "You'd make a strong B+ at Robin! I know it's every nerd's dream to be Batsy himself, but some just ain't cut out for the job."

The boy looked like he was about to slap Harley.

"Ah ah ah!" She cried. "It ain't polite to hit a lady."

"I caught you, Quinn," he said, as though it might shut her up.

"Yup! Yup you did. But imagine if you'd been wrong? You'd just be some teenage boy caught skulking about a very suspicious place."

They were all in the diamond storage vault at one of the mining companies. The diamonds were kept here on sight until being shipped to more secure locations.

Harley and Ivy had hit one with total success. On the second, however, they'd had a guest drop in. Quite literally. But the bad luck didn't stop there.

"Oh, believe me." The voice was far deeper than any already in the room. "He's still very much some teenage boy caught skulking about a very suspicious place."

The tied up girls twisted in their chairs as best they could. Behind them was a bigger version of Batboy.

"Now _that_ is a Batman," Harley Quinn said in a wilting sort of voice.

"Crap," Ivy muttered.

Batboy stammered. "Who... I mea- who are you?" He demanded, struggling to keep up the gruff act.

"Nice try, kid. But I'll take this from here." The bigger Batman set his hand on Harley's shoulder, grip steely. He managed to overpower his smaller counterpart simply by being in the room. He was massive, muscular, dark, powerful...

Sharp.

On the outside of his arms, gauntlets had small spikes. An advantage in a fight, Harley was certain. It definitely made Batboy's suit look second-rate.

Harley jerked forward, as though attempting to escape. Batman's hand slipped from her shoulder, but he grasped Harley's shoulder once more.

"Not so wily now, Quinn?" Batman growled. Batboy clenched his teeth when the older man used the name.

Harley tugged at the rope Batman's gauntlets had unwittingly sliced. The rope slithered free.

Harley snatched Batman's hand, whirling the unsuspecting vigilante against the vault wall. She lunged, grabbing one of Poison Ivy's toxin guns.

"Not so wily now, Batboys," Harley said in a particularly high-pitched voice. She strutted towards Ivy, then began picking one of the knots apart with her free hand.

"You won't get a-" Batboy started.

"Don't even finish that sentence," Batman warned.

Ivy's rope came free. As the green girl disentangled herself, Harley began talking again.

"So here's the dealio, Batboys! One of you gets to live to tell the story of the Intoxicating Poison Ivy and her Hilarious Harley Quinn. The other one gets to tell the story of _what happens to people that try to stop them!_ " Harley pointed the gun at Batman and squeezed the plastic trigger.

An orange foam dart flew out of the end. Neither of the Superhero Wannabes expected the shot. Neither reacted.

The dart bounced off of Batman's chin. He blinked. Batboy blinked. A small smile tugged at the edges of his mouth.

"What was that, Quinn?" He asked softly.

Harley tilted her head, ponytails bouncing in the air. "The bright light at the end of the tunnel, Batbrain," she replied with a smile.

The Batman's eyes widened. A dribble of froth foamed out of his mouth as his chest stilled.

Batboy was very, very silent.

"Well, sorry to cut the party short, but we gotta am-scray!" Harley waved the gun, causing Batboy to flinch. "Have fun!" She began to skip out the door as Poison Ivy picked up her other Toxin gun.

"Don't try to stop us again," Poison Ivy whispered to Batboy as she walked past. "Because next time, your corpse will be telling the story."


	9. Chapter 9

"I think you're gettin' kinda attached to the persona," Harley Quinn commented.

Poison Ivy looked up irritably from pruning the dead leaves off of a plant. She had made Harley stop during the get-away at a greenhouse to pick it up.

"I've always liked plants," Ivy snapped. "And this one is necessary for poison."

"Mhm. Sure thing, Red!" Harley said, unconvinced.

"Harley Quinn!"

One of the thugs ran up to them, panting. He was dressed in a black uniform like the others.

 _Thank Gotham for Amazon, Harley thought with satisfaction._

"What is it?" Harley asked, sitting up eagerly. The henchman's eyes followed her body as she moved. Ivy was convinced that lust was one of the reasons any of them stayed when the chance to leave was offered. Whether it had originally been for kink and fetish, they were now here simply because no one left. One girl had tried. That girl was now six feet under.

"There's someone at the gate asking for Poison Ivy."

Ivy flipped her carrot-colored curls over her shoulder.

"Finally. Someone recognizes that I'm the one who actually killed people."

"...most people don't want to be known for that," the thug muttered.

Ivy threw her pruning shears at his head, then marched out of the room.

"Don't worry," Harley assured him. "She does that to everyone!" Harley jumped to her feet and ran after Ivy.

Ivy and Harley came to a stop on the balcony.

"Holy macaronis," Harley muttered.

A SWAT team had the abandoned prison surrounded. At the head was an official looking person.

"Come out with your hands up, no weapons in sight," said the official looking man through a megaphone. "The young lady under the alias "Poison Ivy", suspected to be the runaway Kaylin Turner, is under arrest for murder. The young lady under the alias "Harley Quinn", suspected to be the runaway Campbell Flory, is under arrest for theft and human trafficking."

"Well crap," Ivy said.

"Ooh ooh ooh! I can handle this, Red!" Harley skipped down the steps and across the quad. "Howdy, Officer... Reynolds? Oh, I just adore that guy! But only when he's all gussied up in red and black. Green just doesn't suit 'im at all."

"Are you Campbell Flory?" Asked the officer. He looked the girl over from her pigtails to her dramatically painted face to her very skimpy leather outfit.

"What's it to you, copper?" Harley pressed herself against the bars at the gate. "So Reynolds, d'you know we've met before? Weeell... kinda. I've met you! Weeell... kinda. I've met your online social media self!"

The man scowled. "Are you or are you not Campbell Flory? Where is Kaylin Turner? And the people you kidnapped from the San Diego ComiCon?"

"Hey, jumpin' to conclusions ain't nice!" Harley said shrilly. "Step a little closer, will ya?"

The officer just stared at her gruffly.

"Oh, c'mon! I know you don't want your friends to hear about..." Harley looked around suspicious, then pressed herself closer to the gate. "That one night. Know what I mean? With that one sex kitten that was most definitely NOT your wife? She was a hot mami." Harley winked. "Someone would think ya had a leather fetish, though."

"Shut up," hissed the officer.

"Ah ah ah! Rude way to talk to a lady, Mistah Reynolds. Jumped any more Pebbles since then? C'mon," Harley grinned. "S'alright by me. Some men just can't resist the temptation of a PYT, know what I mean?"

Officer Reynolds had gone perfectly red in the face.

"No one. Will believe you."

"Maybe. 'Cept I checked up on any officers that may be bouncin' by, an' I got what you'd call evidence. I'd press charges against ya. I'm not afraid to do it." Harley smiled alluringly up at him. "Say, but I'll tell ya what else I ain't afraid to do..." She batted her eyelashes at the blustering officer. "Whaddya say, Rey?"

"I- no!" The man said, eyes wide.

"Aw. Well, then am-scray." Harley made shooing motions. "I ain't Campbell, and she ain't Kaylin. We're just a couple kids messin' around and LARPin' and schizzle."

"C-course." Officer Reynolds motioned for the SWAT team to back down. "Silly of us. Too much fuss over... games. No kids could pull of the diamond mine. A-"

"Save it for the paperwork," Harley said, waving her hand. "Toodles!"

After the men had left, Ivy came up behind the still beaming Harley.

"You offer the guy sex and he leave?"

"Hey, a scared person is a manipulable person! It was clumsy... he'll be back. But by then, _we'll_ be gone!"

Ivy grinned. "You're something else, Harley."


End file.
